Prologue

Unending: Fall of Man

Prologue

The plains of Autrin danced in the coming Autumn winds. Lush farmland blanketed the rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Solemn rocks, as large as the oak trees they neighbored, stood as a testament to all that this was an ancient land. Home to deep roots of both greatness and evil, this was a land of legacy. The winds blew once more, carrying with them a traveler. Not foreign, yet not familiar to the land he tread, the lost soul kept on, past the relics of old.

Silently, the cloaked figure wandered. He knew not where he was going, nor where he had come from. He had forgotten his name some time ago, relying on whatever the locals felt he should be called from place to place. His torn wanderer's rags were still soaked from the previous battle. Be it water or blood he didn't care. The same scenes had filled his weary head for the past hundred seasons. The war was not yet over.

A few hazel locks trailed from the traveler's cloak in a deadly instant, caught in a swift, yet soothing breeze. Quickly, the man tucked his hair underneath his ragged hood, and searched desperately for a place to hide. A caravan appeared not too far over the grassy hillside. The wanderer approached those like him, in hopes of much needed shelter.

He was surprised to see only one man in the large, horse drawn vessel. It was new, though the outer covering had many rips and gashes, of which most were clean cut. The cart's dark red sun sheets blended with the light brown oak, giving it a very sinister appeal. A clawing dread inched its way into the walking traveler's heart, causing him to suddenly turn from the caravan before he and the driver could meet. Instead, the nameless traveler decided to take a small foot trail that forked from the common road. He walked quickly, and dared not look back to see if he had gained yet another pursuer.

A few days passed, and after countless hills and twisting roads, the man had come to a large village. It was situated in a small valley, and surrounded by the elevated countryside, giving the town an isolated, yet peaceful appearance. The houses were mostly single storied and quite plain, but the number of people there was astounding. An event of some kind had to be around the corner. The cloaked man did not wish to join in the festivities however. He just needed to rest for a few moments before moving on. With a large sigh, the figure slouched upon one of the thin wooden corner posts, belonging to an adjacent house.

He didn't need food, nor had he wanted it since a time he could not recall. Everything seemed so long ago. The sharp crackle of pebbles underfoot caught the man's attention. A horse rested nearby, left untied by the inn three houses over. Whomever had left it had no intention of returning. It was then that he remembered. His last adversary had left him with the same feeling of reckless abandon.

The man had called him Poseidon, just before he had met his end. It was a beautiful name, one that stood out far too much if ever used. One that people now worshiped fervently. He had used to care, fueled by greed and desire. It had given him power, glory, everything. But with time, Poseidon had learned that glory rots, and soon enough begins to smell of lust, corruption, and hatred.

He had not noticed the man sitting opposite to him until he spoke.

“You seem tired. Have you not enough coin for an inn?” the stranger asked.

“I prefer the outdoors in this cooler weather,” Poseidon responded, wary of this newcomer.

An ox cart passed between the men, halting their conversation. Poseidon still felt the stranger's gaze however. It was a gaze similar to that of a wild dog's by the fact that, while you could never guess its next move, you could always tell its intent. The cart passed, leaving the two wanderers face to face once more.

“I agree with you completely!” the stranger continued. “Young people these days don't understand the beauty of summer as it draws to a close. They only care about the start of fall and the festivities it brings along with it. Once they've reached a hundred seasons, they hardly even go out for evening strolls in the moonlight anymore.”

Poseidon could not see the conversing man's face, for it was shrouded the same as his. It was odd though, for the man spoke of youth, yet he sounded no more than eighty seasons in age. The traveler could have been older however, for he spoke of age in terms of seasons, not Autumns like most did these days. He was a complete mystery.

The stranger then leaned forwards, his faded black rags shifting under his powerful chin.

“Tell me, is such hair common in your country?”

Poseidon's heart skipped a beat. His hair was not out, he had made sure of it. The untied horse let out a playful whine, taking a few steps past the corner of the inn. The red sun sheets of the trailing caravan proved what Poseidon had been fearing ever since the wanderer had sat across from him.

Without so much as a word, Poseidon clenched his fists, uttering words of divine summoning as quietly as possible.

“Oceans below,” he started. “Rise to the heavens, and fall to my feet. Obey my commands, and quench my thirst for glory.”

The spell had been cast. Only fate would determine if he would live long enough to use it. Looking down at his side, Poseidon smiled at the dark stains still covering his torso. It had been blood.

“Have you begun the summon yet? If not, then you're.. a.. dead.. man,” the stranger said with a smirk. “You don't have to worry, I'll wait to make my ascension that more dramatic.”

“You will find that becoming a Titan is not as easy as you wish it to be,” Poseidon replied. “You must kill me first, a feat no other has managed, not even Tian. I've heard many tales of your kind. Half Gods roaming the lands, leeching off of the fallen among the Titans. Which would you be, Ares, Itzli, or perhaps Anubis?”

“I'll tell you once I have your soul,” the man said, unable to hide his exuberance. “Why don't you come over and find out?”

Poseidon knew his type. This man would wait to summon the power of the Gods, even though his opponent was severely injured. Poseidon was a full two heads taller than the stranger, and most of the other townspeople for that matter, and this had frightened his enemy into not taking an easy victory. He would wait for the power to attack, for he had probably already started the summon the moment Poseidon's hair had shown in the fields several days ago.

Little did he know, a Titan's power is much more potent than that of a mere Demi God's.

Author's Note

Be honest, brutally honest

Reviews

Wow! This really amazed me! You have a real strong sense of imagery, its astounding. I fell right into the story; it was like I was there, and not reading it off a screen right now. I like your use of suspense, and how you don't always tell the reader everything, it always ruins it when an author does that. I'm not huge on the Greek-Mythology/Fiction stories that have been out lately, but I think in your words I may just be hooked! I can't wait to read more!

[r]

Wow. That pulled me in from the beginning and wow. I am for sure reading this

[The Water Queen]

I love the mythology in this and the description is awesome. Please continue. I would love to get a bigger sense and grip on this story.

Very good piece, I think this is a gripping start to your story.
Although I found it hard to keep up with who was who.
Other then that great work

[Hoshizora Aona]

Great beginning. I can see you did your research into mythology and are going to be putting your own twist on the concepts behind it. Not many people know the difference between gods, titans, demi-gods, and so-on. So far I, also, love the imagery. I was a little apprehensive at first because of it, thinking that you may try to go over-the-top with it, but I was pleasantly surprised that you walked the line between realism and description. Looking forward to the next installment.

[Miss Coral]

I really enjoyed this piece- great flow, nice imagery.. interesting story. The only thing is that I got a bit confused about which person you were talking about in the middle. I would differentiate between the characters more.

Overall, very nice write. I'm looking forward to reading more. c:

[Domenic Luciani]

I'm really big on mythology, and that element worked impressively here. It did keep me slightly confused, but is the prologue, so I'm guessing it was supposed to be that way.
I really enjoyed your description in the earlier half,definitely set the scene for me.
The only problem I had was based on personal preference so feel free to ignore it, but it was a little long for a prologue.
I'm wondering how deep this will go as far as mythology.

[James Watts]

Didn't see much in the way errors. For a prologue it is supposed to be a little misty, so we will want to continue forward. Not a bad read.